Nowhere else to go
Held in the direction of the sun
Blinding me
Lost in the sway of the wind
It's relentless
Uncomprehensive
Is this all that I am?
Uncomprehensive
Lost in the sway of the wind
Gripping my head
Stealing what does not belong to you
But you still brand me yours
-Thousand Palms, Sung And Reposed by Arrowhead
Theo supposed Benedict made a wise decision to pursue painting. He didn’t think even Benedict Bridgerton could afford a lifestyle if he attempted acting. He looked like he had just seen a ghost, a very particular ghost that haunted the house he rolls around with his lover in.
If not for the throbbing pain in his knee and head, he would have enjoyed having something to hold over a Bridgerton. He knew a secret about two of the wealthiest men in the area all from being at the right place at the right time.
Anthony, with the grace expected from the oldest Bridgerton sibling, quickly welcomed him in, acting like Theo never saw him half naked at Professor Kathani Sharma’s quarters.
“I’ll show you to the guest’s washroom to get cleaned up.”, Anthony said briskly, his hand on Theo’s shoulder, “You can discard those clothes and I can have some of Colin’s clothes that haven’t seen the light of day in the last few years fetched for you”
He turned towards Benedict, who was still struggling to keep his face (and the rest of him) appearing straight, “arrange for Sophia or Rosie to patch him up, won’t you?”
“Sophia is with mum and Daph. Rosie accompanied Fran to Bath.”, Eloise said.
“I know how to use a first aid kit.”, Theo said, feeling himself redden. He didn’t like being fussed over.
Anthony showed him to a room larger than Theo’s and his sister’s put together. It was a bright, high vaulted room with periwinkle blue walls, a tall white wooden wardrobe and an elaborately carved table with a gleaming marble countertop. Most of the space was taken up by a four-poster bed with a thick blue quilt and two large creamy white pillows. The lacy white curtains blew in, carried by the wind, billowing to the top of the bed post like the back of a coat. Streaks of light wavered through the curtains.
“Eloise picked the design”
“I can tell”, Theo said without thinking. Anthony closed the door behind him. Theo hated to admit it, but the old-money-I’m-going-to-tear-your-jugular-vein looked good on Anthony when he was not stumbling around in only a towel. He could slightly understand Professor Kathani.
“Alright”, his eyes were beady, “how much do you need?”
Theo’s head was throbbing more painfully than ever. He felt like there were a dozen soldiers marching in his skull.
“What?”
“How much money?”, Anthony said impatiently, “for you to not tell people—”
“About you and Professor Sharma?”
“Obviously”
A sudden jolt of anger burned through the pain in his head.. These goddamn rich people. Benedict was back to being his favourite, (or least insufferable) rich person.
“I don’t want money”, Theo said irritably, “I just wanted a safe place.”
“No friends around here?”
“None. I honestly didn’t know where else to go.”
The door burst open just then and Eloise stood there with her usual crossed arms and cross expression.
“What’s happening?”
“Nothing”, Anthony and Theo said at once.
“Thanks for taking me in.”, Theo said, looking right at her instead of Anthony.
“Uhm, sir” a servant had appeared behind Eloise with a stack of clothes.
Eloise walked away. Anthony gave him a look that was hard to read.
“I am sorry”, Anthony whispered, “I just can’t let it get out”
The pain seemed to have numb Theo’s social skills, “Why? I mean, this isn’t the 1800’s. You of all people could survive worse scandals.”
“Kathani won’t”, Anthony hissed, “The scrutiny she will be under will be ruthless and unfair. Keep it under wraps for her sake, if not mine.”
Theo nodded and made his way to the washroom before Anthony spoke again
“Just so you know, I would have let you in regardless. Knowing you are Eloise’s friend was all it took.”
“I am not her friend”, the words were out before Theo could stop himself.
“You are something. Take care Sharpe.”
Theo closed his eyes in bliss under the cold water from the shower. What would bucket baths be after this? He washed away the dirt, taking solace in the rhythmic patterns he drew against his scalp to cleanse himself. Closing his eyes itself felt painful, especially as the memories washed over him. He felt his face. His nose and the bruise against his eye were tender and painful to the touch.
If someone told him a year ago, he’d stumble into Eloise Bridgerton’s house in the richest part of the town with a nearly rearranged face he would have scoffed so hard his breath would have changed the direction of the wind.
At the same time, an emotion entirely new shot through him, something he welcomed. Power. He knew something almost nobody else knew, which literally scared Anthony Bridgerton to the point of attempting bribe. It felt almost as good as the hot water he switched to when he turned his back to the shower. He let out a sigh of relief as the knots in his shoulders dissolved. He’d look forward to winter if he could afford a heater.
He knew sooner or later that he would have to tell Eloise the truth. There wasn’t exactly a handbook on how to tell a rival you were at her house because you got into a physical fight and wanted somewhere safe until the hounds grew weary. He flexed his fingers and felt the sting and redness cling to his knuckles.
A button down and a pair of slacks were neatly folded on the bed when he got out. As he pulled them on, he nearly couldn’t recognize himself in the long mirror. The clothes fit him perfectly and made him look almost distinguished.
A knock on the door shook him out of his reverie.
“Hey, you decent?”
Eloise.
“Yeah”
The door creaked open. She stood there with a first aid kit.
“Thought I’d leave this here.” She shook a bottle of pills, “you can take these after you eat, to help with the pain.”
“Thanks”, he said, stretching his hand for the bottle.
She tilted her head in a way that was strangely similar to Anthony, “you’re staying for dinner.”
“Oh”, Theo said awkwardly, “I’m not hungry”
He prayed she couldn’t hear his stomach growling. He hadn’t eaten since the morning. Eloise shook her head, “you’re staying the night. I am not—I mean, Anthony won’t let you out of here until you…”
“Fix my face?”, smiling hurt a little less when it came naturally
Eloise gave her usual stiff nod, but didn’t leave. She wrung her hands.
Bad acting seemed to run through the family like wealth, or chestnut brown hair and unfairly sculpted facial structures. The silence hung heavily between them, thick with the weight of all the questions he knew she had and the emptiness of his answers. He noticed her eyes sliding to his knuckles. She closed the door behind her.
“Is there anyone I should call?”
The look she gave him unsettled him in a way he couldn’t describe. It felt strangely unfamiliar until she placed her hand on the crook of his arm. The memory came rushing back like a puzzle piece carried by a cool lake breeze.
He had seen this expression before.
He had heard her say this word before.
Theo.
“Theo?”
He cleared his throat, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He tried to avoid her eyes and settled on focusing on the sharp way the light sat on the elegant contours of her collar bone.
She ran her thumb over the crease of his elbow
“Is there someone I should call?”, she repeated, “Wouldn’t your family be worried?”
He shook his head. His father thought he was at Dev ’s house with Preston. Theo had conveniently left out that Dev was in Kerala with his family and Preston lived miles away.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to a hospital? We can foot the bill.”
“I know you can” he said, feeling himself stiffen, “I don’t want charity. I’ll take your leave tomorrow.”
Something in Eloise flickered and he was reminded of staring at the lights through a window. For once, she didn’t say anything. The absence of a sharp retort made the air feel thick and tender.
Instead, she stepped closer.
Time seemed to slow down. Somehow, the whole world seemed to be holding its breath, as if it was tipped on the edge of falling.
She raised her hand and Theo froze as her fingertips traced the bruise under his eye.
He let out an exhale and finally looked at her face. Her lips were slightly parted, and there was a crinkle in between her eyebrows. He smothered the foreign urge to smooth it out with his thumb. He waited for his skin to sting under her touch, for his eyes to water. Instead, he just stood there, his mind wiped blank. Her fingers dipped to his jaw. She gently tipped it to the side to inspect the cut on his chin, her face so close to his he could see exactly where her lipstick had slightly smudged over the cupid bow of her lips.
Theo watched the way her eyes landed on the cut on his mouth. He felt a small throb of pain when she looked at it for half a second before stepping away. Her eyes appeared cloudy, half awake, half entranced.
“Theo, please,”, she said, and his stomach dropped.
Eloise didn’t take her eyes off him as she spoke,
“Tell me. Who did this to you?”
At that point, he was so weak at his knees, a small part of his nearly numb brain dimly resigned to do whatever she asked him to do. But the rational part of his brain had clogged up his throat. He knew that he couldn’t tell her this. Instead, he gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist, feeling her pulse.
“Eloise.”
A sharp knock on the door cracked through them like lightning.
“Dinner in twenty minutes!”
Eloise stumbled back, “Forgive me.”
“I—” Theo grasped at the words but he couldn’t give shape to them. His thoughts seemed to slip through his mind like water down a creek.
“Sit”, Eloise whispered
His legs seemed to have a mind of their own. He sat on the bed and looked up at her.
She opened the first aid kit and took out the bandaids, gauze and disinfectant.
Eloise looked at his bloody knuckles again and he wondered if she thought she could heal it by staring at it. Instead, she swallowed and dropped the items on to his lap.
“I have a feeling you know how to use these.”
He watched her leave the room and did nothing but wait for his heart to stop hammering like a caged bird.